


Sweetest Nightmare

by phoebemaybe



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Demon Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Porn With Plot, Romance, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebemaybe/pseuds/phoebemaybe
Summary: What happens when a starving succubus meets a kind mortal in a bar? Add demon hunters who want her dead on her tail. Would sparks fly? Or would it all end in tragedy?A Demon Daenerys AU.
Relationships: Jon Snow & Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 44
Kudos: 85





	Sweetest Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliciutza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciutza/gifts).



> Hello everyone! It's been too long for that I apologise.
> 
> This fic is one that has been a work in progress for months since just before GoT ended. The biggest reason for that? Loss of motivation and inspiration. Then, came finishing uni, moving countries, losing a family member and pure exhaustion. Life demanded that I take a step back from writing. So, I did. 
> 
> But, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t abandon this ship and my fics so I decided to start writing again. It hasn’t been easy coming back. Dealing with bout after bout of writer’s block, grief etc. First time back after so long? I pray this doesn't disappoint haha. Hope you guys like it! 
> 
> As per usual, I have to give a thank you and a big bear hug to my girl midqueenally on tumblr for helping me with this moodboard >3<.
> 
> Thank you Dani (SFDoll) for all your help along the way too <3.
> 
> PS: Alice, the idea for this fic was partly born from a certain one of yours ;). I promised you I’d give this to you ages ago. It’s finally here!

Dear Satan, she was starving.

If she didn’t find sustenance by the time this bar closed, she just might keel over. Well before the sun rose to greet the day. Nonetheless, that was beside the point. Her true identity coming to light could undoubtedly pass off as high-quality cosplay, so that wasn’t an issue either. What she worried about was losing her means of defending herself. Having spent this long with abilities that made her a far cry from human, she dreaded to think what it would be like to have them stripped away from her, to be rendered mortal once more. Judging from the fact that she could no longer separate the filth from the innocent mortals, her powers were already beginning to diminish to dwindling.

For the millionth time, Daenerys cursed that bastard, his cronies and their bloody perfect timing. 

* * *

**_Two Weeks Ago_ ** **_\- The Dragon Pit_ **

In her long life, she had patronized establishments such as this one countless of times. To find one teeming with the absolute filth of society was not uncommon. But this one? This hunting ground was one of her favourites. It was a seedy night club down by the water where rich white men went behind their wives’ backs to gallivant with ladies of the night. It was the perfect place for them to pick up women that no one would give a damn, if they were to say… disappear without a trace the next day. These men were her sustenance of choice. Oh, how effortless it was to pick those poor sheep out of the crowd!

This night was no different.

Tonight’s meal was gyrating against one of the dancers, prodding at her lower back with his crotch. He trapped her to him with his meaty paws gripping her tightly around the waist. Even a fair distance away the grimace that graced the young girl’s face could be seen under the strobing lights. Licking her lips, Daenerys smiled to herself. This man’s aura oozed around him like sludge, so much so his face was almost completely obscured by its muddy brown hue. He must have been a man who had done despicable things. What things? Those details were irrelevant. Adding an extra sway to her hips, Daenerys made her way across the dance floor toward her intended victim. All she needed to know was that despicable men made tasty meals.

Tonight, she would feed. One less adulterer would walk this earth come morning.

It was really too easy.

A brief flash of her cleavage, a coy smile and a crook of her finger had the clueless fool following her over to a secluded booth in the back corner. There they sat, his eyes firmly fixated on her breasts as if just by looking hard enough, he would be able to see more of her. The band on his left-hand ring finger that shackled the fool to his poor spouse at home, most likely rocking their baby to sleep, felt cold on Daenerys’ thigh. Greasy hands groped at her flesh, desperate to touch her beneath her skirt. 

Batting her eyes at him, Daenerys decided that she must have been doing her job well because the buffoon all but leapt across the small gap between them, deciding to go in for a kiss. The cologne he wore invaded her personal space in an instant like a miasma, pulsating along to the ebb and flow of his sludge like aura. The urge to gag was so strong that she had to turn away from him. The silly man lapped greedily at the guise of her offering him her neck and it was exactly the moment, when his pair of slimy lips landed on her skin that she noticed a bearded man entering the club.

He was portly, all clad in leather and flanked by two younger humans, a male and a female. They made an odd trio what with the two towering over the bearded man. It was clear to Daenerys however, that the stout man was the boss. She couldn’t tell what he was saying to them from where she sat but, the gesture of his hands told her that the lackeys had just been issued an order. An order to split up. Were they the police on a raid? Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have bat an eye but, this man and his underlings…

No, they weren’t the police.

Biting back a hiss, a scowl etched its way onto her face.

_They were demon hunters._

From her neck, Daenerys victim mumbled something incoherent that sounded a lot like a question but she didn’t bother acknowledging him. Discretely keeping an eye on her would be pursuers, the gears in her mind churned away. Did they know what she was? Were they here for her specifically?

The young man and woman deviated from their boss who remained standing by the entrance. The duo made a circuit around the club, observing the dancing patrons and the people at the bar slowly drinking themselves further and further away from sobriety. The young man eventually situated himself by the steps that descended down to the dance floor while the lady came to a halt by the booth just beside Daenerys’.

The close proximity of the hunter to her had the hair on the back of her neck and arms standing on end.

Nods from the two underlings were sent to the man by the door telling him they were in position. Returning them a nod of his own, the portly man by the entrance withdrew a rectangular wooden box from the inner pocket of his jacket. It looked like a handheld radio of sorts with an antenna, a meter, a dial and a switch on the side. With a deft flick of his thumb, the device came to life. 

It was her ears that picked it up first. A subtle change in the air. It began as a buzz on the wings of an invisible swarm of bees in flight that soon magnified, oscillating in waves, persistently rising in frequency and pitch. Then, the blast came. Slamming into the back of her skull like a wrecking ball. Pushing the leech sucking on her neck away with a hard shove, a gasp escaped from her lips as she doubled over from the invisible impact. The pain started out small before radiating out from the back of her head with increasing intensity until it reached absolute agony.

A pair of hands grabbed her around the shoulders and shook her none to gently, sending her vision on a dizzying spin. Looking up, she found that she could distinctly make out her meal’s features. From his ugly bulbous nose down to the beads of sweat dotting his upper lip just above his thick moustache. Despite her vision swimming around and everything was a subdued jumble of sounds in her ears, Daenerys could clearly see his mouth moving wordlessly. A wave of confusion washed over her, not due to her inability to decipher what he was saying but for the fact that she could no longer see his disgusting aura! Fear lanced through her being as her heart began to pick up speed. In the midst of the cacophony assaulting her, she could detect her control trickling away as well. Under the table, she watched in abject horror as her neatly manicured nails elongate and sharpened into talons.

_What was happening to her?_

Casting a discreet glance around, panic stirred. No one else around her seemed to be the least bit fazed. The demon hunters were most definitely targeting her. Closing her fingers into a loose fist, she forced her nails back into their significantly shorter, tapered human form. Her hands now able to clench into fists were trembling and clammy with sweat. The effort it took to tighten the mental grip on her glamour took much more out of her than it usually did. That device the man used must have done something to her. It was forcing her demon form out of its shell!

This was bad, so very bad. She needed to get out ASAP, lest she lost control and gave herself up to her pursuers on a silver platter. Knowledge and life experience gave her all she needed to know what they did to beings like her. Cleanse and banish equated to torture and death. Being the last of her kind made her highly coveted with a large bounty over her head. No way in hell was she going to give these sons of bitches the satisfaction of destroying her just as they did her sisters. If only she weren’t alone, if only she were strong enough, she would wipe out every one of these wretched religious pricks and relish in all the suffering she wreaked on them.

Unfortunately, now her option was only to flee. Sucking in a shaky breath through gritted teeth, Daenerys held it for a count of ten before releasing it slowly. Upon the back of her exhaled breath, the panic that threatened to overtake her gradually receded. The million jabs to her noggin and the high-pitched ringing had toned down to a throbbingly, but manageable level. Hopefully, she could ditch this joint quickly because with her powers behaving so abnormally she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on.

In that moment, slight relief billowed out amongst the torrent of uncertainty. A scent of oily food wafted past Daenerys’ nose - chicken strips and refried frozen chips _._ At least her superior olfactory senses were still working fine. A male server walked by with a tray held aloft in his hands. Empty baskets that once held finger food sat on it, stacked up in a pile. Nudging the door with its ‘staff only’ sign open with his hip, the server vanished behind it. Having lived such a long life did teach Daenerys a few things. There were advantages in picking a booth close to the back. That door would lead to the kitchens, storage rooms, dressing rooms, toilets and the best part?

The back exit.

Escape plan, check. All that was left was to shake off her prey.

Adopting her best pout, the succubus faced her intended meal and said in the most apologetic voice she could master: “I’m sorry but I’m afraid you’ll have to take a rain check on that visit to my boudoir.” Sighing, Daenerys patted her supper on his plump cheek. Those glassy eyes fell to half mast in a slow blink at her touch. A reaction that drew a snort from her. Mortal men were too easy. “You really would have been delicious too. Shame.” That said, withdrawing her hand, she slid soundlessly out of the booth.

Getting to her feet, the demon was promptly overcome by the feeling of being trapped on a ship at sea in a horrendous storm. Her stomach pitched and rolled in the clutches of nausea and the taste of bile hit her back of her throat. Pressing a palm to her mouth, she pushed the urge to hurl back down. She didn’t feel well but she sure could pretend she was.

She had to.

Confidence was the key to the perfect con. Acting, often tricks the observer into thinking you knew what you were doing and that everything was just dandy. What she needed now wasn’t weakness. Placing one foot carefully in front of the other, she headed for the door as casually as she could. She was hoping to all hell that she wouldn’t stumble and fall.

Satan must have been in a good mood that evening.

A swinging door in the wake of a flash of silver hair was all the female demon hunter caught as her eyes swept the room for her target. According to the boss, no matter of unholy creature would be able to walk out on their own two feet under the influence of his latest gadget. Must have been a staff member, she thought to herself with a shrug and went back to her search.

Back at the booth, the man opened his eyes. His face of bliss changed into a picture of confoundedness. His bushy brows drew in to meet in the middle and his mouth hung open. Where did his catch of a woman go?

The lucky sheep would never have known how close to calamity he got to that night.

* * *

 **** **_Present Day – The Wolf’s Den_ **

Daenerys seethed into her whiskey. If it weren’t for those petulant demon hunters, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Frankly, it was embarrassing. Close to a century of roaming this earth, being hunted for who she was the norm. Constantly playing a cat and mouse game with her a step ahead was how it had always been. She made sure of it. Could there be a slim chance that she could only have herself to blame for that? Maybe a bout of complacency and carelessness lead to her lowering her guard? What had she neglected to do? For the life of her she still couldn’t figure it out. 

And what the hell was that device in his hand? 

“Is it a coincidence that you’re always here on my shift?”

A presence on the other side of the bar said to her, jostling her free of her pondering stupor. It was the bartender. A fixed character in this bar who had never spoken to her apart from taking her order. Today, he had decided to approach her. Looking at him through the lenses of a regular human, a heavy weight manifested on her chest. It made itself comfortable right between the spaces of her ribs.

Something was missing.

His aura. His aura with its array of prismatic colours drawn from a rainbow, always shimmering around him like a halo. A bright halo, but not so bright that it hurt her eyes. Auras like that were so rare that she had only seen them a handful of times, often belonging to healers or kind, loving humans who lived to serve others.

She could no longer see it. His pretty glow. Not without her usual sight. The weight pressed down on her now, accompanied by a sharp clench around her beating organ. 

The years alone living under identities that changed with every decade and every country she ventured into had added layer after layer of frost around the emotional vault that vault which guarded her vulnerability and her truest self. If she were to look inwards, that vault would probably be a fortress now after so many years. Learning to embrace the cold and allowing a glamour to hide herself was the best method of protection there was. Consciously distancing herself from the humans around her, she made sure that nothing and no one could touch her. 

So, where did this bout of melancholia come from? The puzzled succubus frowned. All because she couldn’t see this man’s shimmery aura anymore?

Before she could ponder about the strange swell of emotions inside of her, the bartender had retrieved the bottle of whiskey from whence her drink came and proceeded to refill her glass. A crisp round sphere of ice was plonked into the liquor, completing her drink, just the way she liked it. Wanting to thank to the bartender, she let her eyes meet his for the very first time and all thoughts fled her mind. Unprepared was she at the onslaught a simple action like that would bring about.

His eyes, those deep, dark pools of coal had her wondering if they would look a different shade in the light of day or under the silver of the moon. Would they be lighter? Or would they remain so dark that they matched those ebony curls that her fingers itched to tugged and twine through. Tracing her eyes down the bridge of his nose, she landed on his lips. Praise Satan for they were pretty. They were the perfect shade of rosy pink, inviting and tempting her to meet them with her own. How would that scruffy beard of his feel against her cheek when they kissed? Would it tickle or scratch at the tender skin of her inner thighs should he teased her down there?

The shield around her fortified fortress must have cracked.

Alarmed at the sudden direction her thoughts were taking, Daenerys prized her gaze away from his face and down to her glass. Taking a sip of her liquid courage, Daenerys relished in the burn gliding down her throat, settling her nerves a little. For how long, she didn’t know. Enough to get her poker face back in place was all that mattered. Along with the nerve to look at her company in the eye properly again. 

“I know for a fact that you own this establishment. Do you actually have a shift?” The succubus pointed out, fairly amazed to hear the steadiness of her voice.  
  
The look of surprise that appeared on the bartender’s face at her astute observation had her belly doing a backflip. What an adorable mortal he was. His lips curled upwards in a lovely smirk with a sheepish lift of his shoulders.

“It still got you to start talking to me, didn’t it?” 

“Hmm….” A noncommittal reply was what she chose to go with. She didn’t trust her voice this time around. The cheeky levity in his quiet, husky voice marched a shiver down her spine.

“So… does a beautiful woman who’s quickly becoming one of my regulars have a name?” The bar owner asked.

The desperate way that he tried to be nonchalant about it but absolutely failed at it, tickled Daenerys pink. Daenerys had forgotten how refreshing it was to be flattered and feel flattered by the attentions of an attractive man. Not with a leer or overzealous hands but with something as simple as a request to learn her name. She let herself indulge in a rare smile, though it remains hidden behind her glass. Not that the man would notice anyway as he rubbed at a smudge on the spotless bar. The friction between the kitchen towel and the polished wood generated a squeak, squeak, squeak sound, filling the silence between them.

Even with her senses dulled, she could still tell that this beautiful man was holding his breath.

He was waiting for her, to see what she would do.

“Daenerys.”

The way his head snapped up at her voice only exacerbated his cuteness.

“That’s all you’ll be getting from me.”

“Well, I’ll take what I can get.”

The handsome man barked out a laugh, his chuckle that trailed behind it only further endeared him to her. It was genuine and not in the least bit pretentious.

“It’s nice to finally have a name, even if it’s just the first name to put to your face.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a coquettish gesture anyone with eyes could see, Daenerys asked: “Turnabouts only fair, mister bar owner. What is _your_ name?”

To her utmost pleasure, the man proved to be much more forthcoming than she was.

“My name is Jon Snow. It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Daenerys,” he said, eyes a twinkle with a soft, happy gleam.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Mister Snow.”

“Please, call me Jon.”

“Jon.”

The resulting beam at her utterance of his name, that dazzling look of joy in his eyes was a ray of sunshine melting away the ice around her heart. Outwardly, there was only a hitch in her breath. Inside however, a change was occurring and it was too profound to be stopped. Fondness for this man blossomed to occupy the empty chambers within like flowers welcoming the spring. Their roots dug in deep, spreading out, bringing warmth throughout her body, chasing away all the coldness she ever knew. The heady rush of warmth sent her reeling. Jon Snow had blasted her defences to smithereens. So long had it been, since the days of her childhood, had she had felt this so acutely – happiness. An eruption of _happiness_ that this mere mortal had reignited in her. Smiling back at him, watching a glimmer of awe grow in his eyes, for the first time in her very long life, Daenerys experienced something other than cold.

Alas, happiness always seemed fleeting in her life.

Her glass tumbled from her shaky fingers, landing with a clatter. Its contents flowed out and spread forward in a meandering stream, promptly stoppered by Jon and his kitchen towel. He called out to her, asking if something was wrong but none of his frantic words of concern registered in her mind.

It was that scent. A scent she would never forget. An acrid blend of gum resin, onycha, galbanum and frankincense wafted through the air. Daenerys hated herself for the emotion that that smell educed – fear. It was nothing but plant material set to flame. Yet, if enough was inhaled, could fully paralyse demons. This scent was often associated with the hunt.

_A demon hunt._

Bugger it all to Heaven! How did they find her?

“Are you all right, Daenerys?” Jon’s eyes spelled out the worry he felt for her.  
  
“Yes. Quite.” Shooting for a smile, she tried not to question why she had to offer this man a semblance of relief, to tell him she was fine. “Just need to freshen up a bit. Bathroom?”

“To the right through there.” Jon jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the opening in the wall just by the bar area.   
  
Standing from her stool, Daenerys grabbed her clutch. A light pressure to her arm stopped her. Purple eyes trailing up the arm attached to a very warm hand to meet those dark eyes. Those dark, dark eyes scrutinized her face in search of what, she couldn’t say for certain. Moments that felt like forever later, his fingers lifted. Jon let her go. The bereavement of his touch saddened her though she knew not why. Her mind knew that she had to go but her heart wanted nothing more than to stay. 

All because of this sweet, sweet man. 

This man who made her _feel_. And she liked the way she felt around him very much.

Eventually though, her mind won. The bar’s layout was an open one. A quick swipe of the eye was all it took for you to see everything and everyone. She would be spotted. So, Daenerys left, not daring to look back. If she did it would make leaving even harder. She could only wish that she’d get to see Jon again when everything went back to normal. If luck was on her side, that tingly imprint of his fingers would not be the only thing she had to remember him by.  
  
Stumbling out of the back exit, an immediate sense of foreboding trepidation rang the alarm bells in her head. The darkened alley was too quiet. No alley behind a bar was that quiet. Where was the scuttling of rodent feet scavenging for food? Or the yowling of alley cats defending their territory?

Something was very off.   
  
She smelled it again. The scent back inside was nothing like this. The scent of burning holy incense slapped her in the sinuses so hard that her tears were gathering in her eyes. Its smog like texture was so thick that it seemed to have eradicated all the oxygen from the air.   
  
It was a trap and she had just plunged right into it.  
  
It was imperative to not panic but her heart just refused to calm down. Her breath was starting to come in pants. Daenerys clapped her hands over her nose hoping it would be enough to curb inhaling that air of toxin into her lungs.   
  
“There’s a saying. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Well, I’m not a fool. Am I, demon?” The head demon hunter’s voice complimented his oily, round face and beady eyes to a tee.

Slinking into the shadows between two dumpsters, Daenerys pressed her back to the brick wall and closed her eyes. Demon hunters never travelled alone, not on a hunt. Straining her hearing, she tried to locate the origin of the voice, whilst trying to pick up where the other hunters could be lying in wait.   
  
“Your trick of slipping out the back won’t work this time! You might as well come out now. Best to get this over with quickly. You wouldn’t want to die a slow death like all your sisters now, would you?”   
  
The sound of boots clomping against the concrete floor hit her ears. Each footfall was heavy and measured, stepping closer to where she hid.   
  
“Oh yes. I remember them. Hideous creatures straight from the bowels of hell,” The hunter spat. Chuckling, he continued, “However, I do have to give it to spawns of Satan like you.”

Unlike Jon, his laughter was mocking. It was cruel.

“Those shrieks that came out of them? Exquisite.”  
  
The sadistic pride in the bastard’s voice sickened her. Anger and revulsion fought for dominance in the pit of her stomach. Daenerys wanted to vomit.   
  
“I’m sure your screams will be melodious just like theirs. Perhaps, I will let you die slowly. Let me bask in it, won’t you?”  
  
Summoning the dwindling vestiges of her power, Daenerys wasn’t confident in throttling more than one armed demon hunter but she had to try. There wasn’t a way around them. She had to go through them individually. The familiarity of her nails extending and sharpening was comforting. The man’s taunts and mockeries were getting worse as he went into full detail about how he hunted down her family and hurt them. One hand over her nose and the other by her side, she waited for the man to step into her line of sight.  
  
“Out of them all, my favourite bitch had to be that one with the wild hair. I’m sure you remember her. Coffee coloured skin, dark, crazy head of curls?”  
  
Missandei.   
  
Daenerys could still see her in her mind so clearly. That excitement that lit up her chocolate eyes and that bright sunshine smile she wore every time something caught her interest. From when they were just little demonlings attempting to fly by jumping off their beds, only to land in a pile of giggles on the floor. Every night that cheeky little thing would pester her to braid her hair, waking her up even when she was already asleep. She wanted them to match, she would say.  
  
 _Missandei._

Her little sister whom she loved with all her heart. Her sweet baby sister whose life was cut short by the hands of a monster in the skin suit of a man. That monster of a man who was so near. In an instant, her vision was filled with red hot fury while guilt seized her insides once again as she thought about how alone Missandei must have felt in her last moments.

She wanted to make this killer feel what Missandei suffered, how all four of her sisters suffered. Hatred urged her blood to a boil as images of her past flashed across the forefront of her mind. The echoes of her sisters’ screams rang clear in her mind as they succumbed to the fiery tongues of fire, burning them where they stood, unable to break free of the chains of silver that bound them in place. Daenerys could still recall the corrosive hiss of acid, mingling with their cries of pain as Holy Water melted away their skin.

Charging at the fat man with her claws and fangs released in a snarl, Daenerys didn’t care anymore. Alone or not, kill this fat man and her family would be avenged.

“How dare you?! They never would have hurt anyone innocent! Especially Missandei!”

“A demon’s a demon. They need to be eliminated all the same.” The man replied in such a cool manner like he didn’t give two shits about the victims he killed. “Besides, I’m not one who lets an easy kill pass me by.”   
  
A strangled gasp clawed its way up Daenerys’ throat. She was immobilized, paralysed. Her talons hovered before the hunter’s hideous face, a millimetre away from piercing his eyes. Pain, all she knew in that instant was pain. From her the top of her head to her toes. As if she had been shoved into the path of a freight train with each carriage running over her, over and over.  
  
“And right now you’re one too.”   
  
Drawing something out of his jacket pocket, the hunter showed it to her. It was that same device that he had used at the nightclub two weeks ago. Only now, the dial was wound up to the highest setting. Out of the dark, three more hunters stepped forth. One was clutching a small silver burner. Within it sat a pile of holy ashes, sporadically giving off white smoke that floated up into the air in a spiral pattern. The other pair were holding a net between them, no doubt woven with threads of silver. 

They wanted to take her alive.  
  
Daenerys’s limbs grew numb and her hands fell uselessly to her sides before her legs too gave out. Like a rag doll, she crumpled to the ground. No matter how loud her screams in frustration were, they went unheard by the hunters and even herself. She couldn’t move a muscle. Something warm trickled out of her ears and nose. It carried a distinct metallic scent.  
  
Grasping her chin between his fat thumb and equally fat fore finger, he pinched down hard. “Ah... It feels magnificent to have demons at my mercy.” A manic grin tore across his lips, stretching them out, revealing two rows of yellowed, crooked teeth. “This is where you belong. On your knees before God!”  
  
“Hey! What are doing? Leave her alone!”  
  
Jon! It was Jon! What was he doing there? This lunatic was dangerous to either of them. Struggling against her own body, Daenerys wished she could shout at him to get away. Before she knew it, there he was, stepping between her and the fat man, glaring the much taller hunter down. Daenerys didn’t know whether he was brave or stupid.  
  
Turning to look at her, Jon’s eyes widened in shock. “Daenerys?” He breathed. He must have not realized it was her in the dark. Seeing the blood on her face his expression shifted from upset to stormy. “What did you do to her?” He directed his words at the hunter, gritting them out slowly like a growling wolf.

“None is your business, silly boy. But...” The hunter drawled. “If you want to get involved? Fine by me.” He shrugged, looking amused as if Jon were a jester at his court. “I might as well let you have a little fun.”  
  
With a click of his fingers, the other two junior hunters grabbed a hold of Jon’s arms and pulled him away. No matter how hard he fought against their grip, he couldn’t break free. Daenerys could hear the panic in his voice as he yelled, “Let me go!” His voice switched to anger. “What a bunch of dicks you are to be ganging up on a defenceless woman! The police have been notified. You won’t get away with this. They’ll be here any minute now!”   
  
Ignoring Jon’s exclamations, the hunter unslung a shotgun from his back. Daenerys had a very bad inkling about what was to come. Cocking it, he aimed the muzzle at her. Staring at the barrel, she wanted to duck away but she couldn’t even flinch. She despised being helpless like this. She despised being this scared. Her heart beat thumped loud in her ears, morphing Jon’s panic-stricken shouts in all its agitation into a muffled buzz. Unable to do anything, she could only mentally brace herself for the pain.   
  
With a bang of the gun, the bullet pierced through her. Piercing through her skin, flesh and muscle. Next, came the burning, burning through her entire being from its site of entry. The bullet a struck match and her body a field of dried grass. The scorching pain consumed her. A simmer of angry burst forth before sinking with her into the bowels of darkness. The last thing she saw was the satisfied grin on the fat man’s face

Had her luck finally run out?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this new fic of mine will provide some form of entertainment during this trying time when we’re all cooped up in our houses. Do tell me your thoughts down in the comments below. Do you like this Dany? I've never written her like this before. Tell me if I’m doing okay after so long of inactivity. Leave a kudos too if you’d like. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy everyone hehe. I’ll see you in the next chapter! ;)


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